


I'm So Sorry

by BloodyRedQueen



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Burns, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Panic Attacks, Peter Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torture, Whump, h/c, human-experimentation, i feel like i should say sorry again, im so sorry, shameless whump, why am i like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 09:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11918403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyRedQueen/pseuds/BloodyRedQueen
Summary: "Peter woke with a start. Ever since homecoming, he never did seem to be able to wake up slowly, and now was no exception. His spider-sense drove a migraine through his skull.  It hit him all at once that the only clothes he had on were his boxers. His wrists, ankles, and neck were secured to a metal table with some kind of vibranium-cuffs. He tried giving them a tug, but there's only so much super strength could do. "AKA Peter wakes up in a HYDRA lab, and generally just gets beat all to hell and trusts no one but Tony.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, let me know what you think. If no one likes it I probably won't continue, so just let me know if you're interested. Also looking for a beta to give me helpful feedback and fix my ridiculous grammar.

Peter woke with a start. Ever since homecoming, he never did seem to be able to wake up slowly, and now was no exception. His spider-sense drove a migraine through his skull. It hit him all at once that the only clothes he had on were his boxers. His wrists, ankles, and neck were secured to a metal table with some kind of vibranium-cuffs. He tried giving them a tug, but there's only so much super strength could do. 

Around the room were several medical instruments, large lights, and sanitizing scrubs. It looked like an old operating theater, only dirtier. Peter started panicking. He couldn't remember how he got here, couldn't remember his last mission. He didn't even know who had him, just that it was bad news. 

Somewhere he couldn't see, a door slammed open. Several pairs of footsteps came into the room, and then into view. Standing above Peter were two "surgeons", in medical gowns with the HYDRA insignia printed on them. Carrying in equipments and vials and tubes were several "nurses", in HYDRA scrubs. They looked so ridiculous he would've laughed if he could get past the terror choking him. 

"Test 40092, August 26th, 2017. Subject was extracted without any damage. Appears to be male, adolescent, physically fit. Experiments will be conducted in order according to the discovery plan, then replicated." The various staff around him starting pulling on gloves, squinting at him lying there on the table. 

Peter was definitely hyperventilating, fear clawing up his throat with a vice grip on his lungs. 

"Wuh- what? Hey I-I please what is this? Experiments? What're you doing?" He begged, but none of the doctors would even look at his face. They were studying him like an animal.

"C'mon, this is a mistake, this-this is a misunderstanding, please-" Peter only got so far until a gag was shoved in his mouth. Despite it he kept trying to talk to them, make them realize he was a person, even though all that came out were muffled groans.

The doctors and nurses around him started poking into him. Inserting tubes, wires, patches alike. One of them drew some blood, then another did as well. Terror swirled in his gut, coiling around his stomach and making him nauseated. 

"We will now commence testing."  
............................................................................................................................................................  
Peter had no idea how long they worked on him. He wanted to say days, but realistically he knew it couldn't have been more than a few hours. That being said, he didn't think he'd ever felt this much pain before. 

They'd started by cutting into different parts of him, harvesting "muscle samples". He'd never forget what it felt like to see a literal part of his body be carried off in a plastic bag. The smell of his blood, thick and hot, lingered in his nose for hours afterwards. At some point, when they were taking something from his leg it hurt so bad he spasmed with the full force of his strength. The cuff bent a little, and for just a second Peter thought there was hope. But a second later someone came in the room and "double enforced" them, which really just meant installing a second set of cuffs that were an inch thicker. 

His throat ached from all the screams he couldn't get out. His lips were dry and cracking, and around the cuffs the skin was bleeding where he struggled during the procedures. Someone had been sent in to mop the room when they'd finished, and he could see his blood being wrung out of the mop in the corner of the room. Peter would've given anything to be able to try and talk to the man, but he was exhausted and the adrenaline had drained out of his system an hour ago. And so he fell asleep, in pain and alone.   
............................................................................................................................................................  
Three sessions later, Peter had a sinking feeling that no one was looking for him. Either Tony didn't know he was missing or he didn't care. Ned and MJ would never know what happened to him. He couldn't even begin to think about May. When everything hurt so bad, the thought of her hugging him and the feeling of home would be just enough to send him over the edge. So he had to accept it. It was days since he would've last seen anyone and no one was coming for him. Peter was alone in this one.   
......................................................................................................................................................  
He found his opportunity soon enough. The janitor was wearing headphones, mopping up after the most recent session, pushing blood towards the bucket when his mop handle fell onto the table. Not noticing it hit a button, he kept cleaning unaware of Peter slowly sitting up and rubbing his wrists. 

Peter was on him in seconds. All sense of holding-back went out the window after the second session, and all that was left in him was a red hot need for freedom. He slammed the janitors head against the table. It was anyones guess whether the guy was unconscious or dead, but Peter couldn't be bothered to stop and check in his current state. He stole the guys jumpsuit and mop, and shakily made his way to the door. 

Outside it was a long, white hallway. Leaning heavily on the mop for support, Peter limped through the halls looking for any sign of daylight or fresh air. Eventually a scientist turned down the hall, looking at Peter for a brief second. Peter could feel his heart beat speed up, ratcheting to inhuman speeds. His hands shook and he knew there was blood about to seep through the jumpsuit and onto the floor. 

The scientist stopped for a second, opened his mouth, and then continued walking. Peter had never felt more relieved as he quickened his pace down the hall.   
Finally, after several heart-pounding minutes, he saw a window in a room. He ducked into the room, peering up and out of the window. It was daytime outside. Cloudy. A helicopter was flying somewhere overhead. Tears he didn't know he still had sprung to his eyes as he realized he was almost out. He scrambled up the wall, winding up his fist and punching the window. He got a breath of fresh air, reached out onto the grass on the ground, and then bars came slamming down across the pane and crushed his forearm. The lights in the room cut out and were replaced by red emergency lighting and a siren sounded. 

Peter cradled his arm to his chest and wildly looked around the room. Soldiers came pouring like ants, pointing tasers at him. He sobbed once and crumpled in on himself before the first taser hit and everything went black.  
............................................................................................................................................................  
After the escape attempt, Peter lost track of time. Sessions, breaks, clean-ups blurred together. One day they just injected him with various poisons to see if he'd react. Despite his blood boiling, the sensation of burning in his sinuses, Peter didn't move a muscle. Everything mixed together into a constant all-consuming ache. They had to finish their testing soon, had to dispose of him. He knew it was a matter of time, and started looking forward to it. He wrote imaginary goodbyes to everyone in his head. He knew Tony and May would blame themselves, and he wished he could just tell them not to worry. 

Peter waited and waited for them to be done, until one day there was an interruption. They were half-way through testing his healing factor with respect to burns when the red lights came back. The entire staff paused, and then whipped around as the door busted wide open.   
........................................................................................................................................................  
Bucky wasn't against all this do-gooder stuff. Since their team had started going on their own missions, Bucky could understand why Steve liked it so much. For the first time in what must have been 70 years, he felt like one of the good guys. He knew it when he saw the faces of people he rescued from fires and from the fear on the face of HYDRA agents when he saw them. 

But this particular mission struck him personally. Steve had gotten word that there was a secret HYDRA base hidden somewhere off the coast of Maine. After scannning the area hundreds of times they found a small island, almost undetectable to any kind of radar equipment. He saw the building on the island. An abandoned hospital. Bucky knew exactly what kind of work HYDRA liked to get done in abandoned hospitals, and so did Steve. 

Before they left Steve walked up to him one last time. 

"You sure you're up for this? No one would judge you if you wanted to sit this one out." Steve's tone was genuine, as it always was. Bucky could see the concern in his eyes, but he also knew that he had to face what would be in that building, and Steve needed all the back-up he could get. 

"I'm okay. I'm sure I've seen worse than what's past those walls." Bucky patted Steve's arm and moved away, looking out the window of the helicopter as it drew closer to the island. He had a growing sense of dread. Nothing good could be in there. 

Getting through the HYDRA agents was easy, fighting was never Bucky's weakness. The hard part was opening the cells up and seeing the prisoners flinch into the corners at the sight of another person. Slowly he and Nat would coax them out, getting them blankets and water and clothes before getting situated on the chopper. Gradually they freed everyone in the cells except for one last wing in the bottom of the basement. It had been a long day of emotional work and Bucky was tired of seeing people in pain, imprisoned.   
He busted onto the basement floor, triggering the alarm system immediately. Almost every room down here was empty, and he was doing one last check. At the end of the hall was one room with double doors that looked pretty serious, and he sauntered down the hall to peak inside. 

Bucky shoved open the doors and paused in shock. There were roughly 7 or 8 HYDRA personnel, the room smelled like burnt skin, and there was a teenage boy strapped to the table that looked all but catatonic. He called Nat down to take care of the agents as they all ran out of the room like weasels, and he ran over to the kids side. Jesus, he thought, there's no way he's over 16. 

The kid definitely looked worse for wear. Tubes stuck out of him in various places, incisions poorly stitched up and deep bags under his eyes. The kid's eyes lazily met his, and for a second Bucky saw some hope there, though it was quickly replaced with new found fear. 

The poor guy started thrashing around on the table, whimpering behind whatever the hell it was in his mouth and squeezing his eyes shut around tears. Bucky grabbed what was in his mouth and yanked it out harshly. It was probably too harsh but he was appalled by what was around him and couldn't find the patience to be delicate.

"Pl-please. Please. Ju-just let me call him. I'm so-sorry. Just let me call him just once" the kid cried. His eyes peaked open and Bucky was rooted to the spot in shock. 

"Call. Who?" 

"M-mr. St-stark. Please. I j-just need to s-say goodbye. I p-promise. Just one call, please" 

Bucky didn't even know what to say. He just stared at the kid. At the different scars, incisions, raw wounds. Blood was dripping off the table onto the floor. Bucky's mouth gaped open, what would Steve say here? What would Steve do?

"Steve, can you get down here for this?" Bucky asked through the comms as the kid kept begging to talk to Stark. He vaguely heard Steve confirm he was on his way before refocusing on the teenager laying flat on the table. In no way was Bucky equipped to handle this situation. But he had to admit there was something familiar about the kids voice. Something really familiar. 

"I'm so-sorry. I am. Please. I j-just want to say bye. Then I'm done I-I promise" the kid kept going. and then it hit Bucky like a train. 

"Spider-man?!" 

As soon as he said it the kid broke down completely. It sounded like he was trying to apologize, but Bucky couldn't be completely sure. He took a step back from the kid, hoping that would help him realize he wasn't in danger, but then he just started crying harder and asking Bucky not to leave. Then Steve stepped into the room and it all went to shit.   
...........................................................................................................................................................

"I-I'm sorry please please please I'm sorry I'm sorry please" the kid had been saying that for 20 minutes now. No one could figure out how to open the cuffs. They'd tried prying at them, hitting them, cutting them, but nothing worked. Nat was carding her fingers through the kids hair but it seemed to just set him on edge more. 

Finally, Wanda showed up. She took one look at the shaking boy and extended her powers. A red glow hovered around his head, and he slowly looked dazedly at the people around him.

"Once-once I call Tony you can do anything. But I just want to say bye first. Then you can kill me too, I won't even fight I promise" He said dreamily. Bucky looked to Steve. Steve looked at Bucky. Steve sat up from where he was trying to pull off the cuffs and gently put a hand on an unmarked spot of Peter's shoulder. 

"Hey son, do you know who we are?" 

Peter looked up at him and smiled a little. 

"You're Captain America. We sent your friends to super jail and now you want to kill me." Nat's brow furrowed. Wanda's eyes widened. Steve realized there was an enormous misunderstanding laying there. 

"Buddy we aren't going to hurt you. We're here to help. " Peter shook his head. Wanda's magic still glowed around his temples and he was calm. 

"Nice try but I'm a human lie detector. A spider human lie detector. A spider lie-tector." 

Bucky grunted, took out his phone, and handed it to Steve. 

"Call him. He should know." 

Steve sighed once and looked down at the phone. He lifted his hand off the teenage vigilante and dialed Tony. It only rung once before he picked up.

"Is this an emergency? I got bigger fish to fry and-"

"Tony. We found someone on a HYDRA base that wants to talk to you. We think he may be Spider-boy"

A quiet "spider-man" sounded from the table. 

Steve bent down and pressed the phone to Peter's ear. 

"...Peter?" Tony asked. His voice was thin, he was stretched too thin from two weeks trying to find Peter. Peter had gone missing after school, and while Ned's account implied it was the secret service Tony knew better. Tony had been working day and night trying to track him down. They'd busted at least 12 different facilities in the time Peter was gone, but not a single of them had contained a certain arachnid vigilante. 

"M-Mr. Stark?" Peter's voice was thick with emotion. He could barely talk, the relief seizing his throat. 

"I-I just wanted to say it's ok. It's not your fault. Could you tell May that I-that I love her? And Ned and MJ. And I love you too. I'm-I'm so sorry. Um. I want you to know it'll probably be painless. I-I guess I'll see you all later. Bye" Peter shut his eyes against the tears, Wanda's magic supressing all the panic it could. Steve lifted the phone up to his ear again.

"He seems to think we're going to cause him harm. He's uh. He's not looking too good Stark." 

Steve could hear a choked noise on the other end of the line. He gave Stark a minute to compose himself, and then said,   
"We can't figure out how to get him loose. They've got him under some pretty strong restraints here, nothing I can understand." 

"Where are you right now?" Tony sounded ragged. Steve gave him the coordinates, told the rest of the team to get out before Stark got there. Within minutes the chopper left, leaving Peter and Steve alone in the room. Without Wanda's powers, terror was seeping back into the kid. 

"What-what are you gonna do with me?" He was trying to sound tough, god bless him, but Steve could hear the tremor underneath. He could see the way the kid was trying to kid his bottom lip from shaking, whether it be from the cold in the room or fear. 

"Well, Tony's on his way. We're going to get you out of here, then some medical help, and finally we're going to get you home with your family." From the way the kid looked sideways at him, Steve could tell he didn't trust him. Instead of replying, the kid set his jaw and stared resolutely at the ceiling. Dried blood was caked onto Steve's skin from where he'd touched the boy. Only a few minutes passed before Tony ran through the doors and looked at Peter. 

Tony was a wreck, to put it generously. His hair was messy, he was unshaved, his clothes didn't match at all. He hardly looked like himself. But when he saw Peter laying on the table and breathing, he took a deep breath and schooled his features into something semi-normal. 

"Hey kid, you know you missed movie night?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets to where Peter's been held. His return to the world is less than ideal.

Peter stopped breathing for a moment when he heard Tony's voice. Then, his eyes locked with Steve's in disbelief. 

"Mr. Stark, you should get out of here." 

It took everything he had to stay calm. If Tony was really there, Steve wouldn't be here. If Tony was really here, Peter wouldn't be stuck on the table still. This was another trick. Steve probably wasn't even here, just another test. 

"Mr. Stark, you really need to go. I don't think it's safe for you here." 

He gulped down whatever moisture was still in his mouth, trying to sooth his cracked throat. He was still staring at Steve, who looked back at him, exasperated. Peter searched his face for the edges of some kind of HYDRA-made mask. He knew the psychological tests had to start at some point, he just hoped they'd keep Mr. Stark out of it. 

Meanwhile, Tony stepped closer to the kid. He looked awful. He clearly lost weight, he was pale, bloody, and either on the edge of hysterics or already there. One of his arms looked like it had an anvil dropped on it for gods sakes. How Peter wasn't screaming in agony was beyond Tony. He studied the cuffs, which were doubled up on the kids' wrists and ankles. Right where they met the table was a break in them, which he figured was the release mechanism. So they could be released. 

"Underoos, you know things are smoothed over with my buddy Steve here." Not entirely true, and he winced a little after calling Steve his buddy, but Peter was still staring at Rogers like he was going to choke him out at any second. 

"Status report training wheels. Come on." If Peter could talk, if he was coherent, Tony needed to keep him that way. 

"First, second, and third degree burns ranging from one to five inches on my torso, light lacerations on my ankles, wrists, and neck, infected sutures on my right leg, left shoulder, and back of my neck. Severe blood loss. Some kind of blood poisoning, I'm not sure what. I think they took part of my shin bone. Dehydration and malnourishment. And my arm is... is bad. And they took the pad of my right index finger?" Near the end, Peter lost focus. His eyes looked up at nothing, he stopped struggling.

The wounds were staggering. While Peter was laying there, listing off what had happened to him, Tony and Steve made eye contact over his body. They both knew it was bad. 

"I don't... I don't think I can last much longer, Mr. Stark. I can hold 'em off, get outta here"

Tony looked over at the desks and tables in the corner of the room. There was a big red button, as there always was. There had to be a release to the shackles on that table, possibly that button. He looked at Peter again, who was staring at Steve again like he killed his puppy. 

"If you... if you hurt... Mr. Stark... you'll hafta catch these hands." Peter mumbled, putting on his 'war face' as he called it. Steve looked back down at him and ran his fingers through Peter's hair, which had taken on a red-brown tint over his captivity. 

Several things happened at once. Peter gathered up the precious little bit of saliva he had left, stared directly at Captain America's face, and spit. At the same time, Tony hit a button, and Peter was free again. Right as the cuffs cleared his arms, legs, and neck, Rogers jumped up and back with an almighty, "Stark!" 

Peter lunged himself off the table, only to find he was incredibly weak. He sunk to the ground, into a puddle of his old blood. Despite the fact that his arms and legs felt like they had just been blended, he pulled himself up and staggered over to where Tony was standing, putting himself between Rogers and Tony. 

"I told you. Leave. Him. Alone." He pulled his arms up into fists, ignoring the way the burns and sutures pulled at his skin. Keeping his destroyed arm up felt like lifting an elephant, and it only took a second for his muscles to ache and burn in agony. He could feel it throbbing and swelling with the movement.

Rogers put up a hand in a placating manner, but Peter just flinched back and shoved Tony farther behind him. 

"You can... You can do whatever you want with me. I know. I know this isn't real. But leave Mr. Stark out of it. Please. Just leave him out." Peter was crumbling. Rogers opened his mouth again, but shut it quickly when a sob clawed it's way out of Peter's mouth. Behind him, Tony swooped him up and carried him bridal style. 

"This is real, kid. I can promise that." Peter looked at Tony, but he didn't recognize the expression on his face. Peter wanted so badly for it to be real. He kept searching Tony's face but couldn't find any clues to point either way, and finally gave up and passed out.   
............................................................................................................................................................  
Peter struggled back to consciousness hours (days?) later. Panic was lashing around in his gut, and when he opened his eyes all he could see was ceiling. None of it had been real. He wanted to thrash around in the cuffs, but he didn't have the energy so he settled for crying. Things didn't hurt like they did before, and it occurred to him he was either dead or about to die. He blinked a few more times at the ceiling, crying and wishing he could just see May one last time. 

"Mr. Parker. I see you're awake again"

Peter couldn't see who said that, but it sounded like Captain America. He felt sick to his stomach. He wanted to go home. 

"Do you want to sit up?" Rogers came closer to the table. Wait. The bed. Peter was laying on a bed, now that he thought about it. He looked up to see Rogers looming over him and felt fear surge through him. 

"I need to- I need to sit up. Please" Rogers paused for a second, and Peter found himself terrified for a second that Rogers wouldn't listen, or would laugh and hurt him more. His breathing was coming in harsh and shallow before the hospital bed tilted up, allowing him to sit up. His arms and legs were still bound at different points on the bed, and he looked up at Steve, pursing his lips shut against whatever was going to happen next. He closed his eyes and felt a tear leak out, then berated himself mentally for being so weak.

"Son, you were moving around during your sleep and aggravating your wounds. I can take these off now, right? You're not going to do anything?" 

Peter looked up at Steve in disbelief as he unfastened the leather straps that had been securing his limbs. After weeks, he was finally able to fold his legs in and curl up.

"Thank you" He choked out. He wanted to ask where Tony was, but was to afraid of the answer. He gave Rogers one last look, glanced over at the door, and made a break for it. His legs were incredibly weak after all they'd gone through, but he managed to stagger out into the living room just to see the Winter Soldier, Scarlet Witch, and Black Widow staring back at him. 

He stumbled away toward what looked like the door, heart pounding. 

"Peter, hey, come back!" He could hear Captain America shouting from somewhere behind him. Someone grabbed his (relatively) uninjured wrist. 

"Please, I'm sorry, let me go, please" He begged. A few weeks ago he might've been above pleading for freedom in a mystery facility, but everyday is a new day. 

Luckily, Tony walked in right then. 

"Hey kiddo, how you feelin'?" Tony carefully, slowly walked towards him, and Peter felt an urge to cling to him. If Mr. Stark was here he was safe. If this was real and Mr. Stark was here, he was safe. 

"What- what happened Mr. Stark? Where am I?" As soon as he asked, a dark shadow fell over Starks face. When he looked up at Peter, he looked bereft. 

"Let's get you back in bed, okay?" Tony must've noticed the way his legs were shaking, heart beating so fast it could've been trying to escape his chest. Once he was situated back in bed and sitting up, Tony looked at him sadly. 

"You're at the new Avengers compound, kid. They uh- they fixed you up alright. But I don't know if you want to bare the blue and red for a while with that arm" 

Peter looked over at his arm, which had a state of the art 3D printed cast encircling it. He could see sutures and where plates were put in and he looked back at Tony. Neither of them said anything, just staring at each other in relief. Peter swallowed and his throat ached. From his right came a cup of ice, but Peter had forgotten that Steve was there and he jumped. His heart rate sky rocketed and he flinched away. 

"Hey, hey kid you're okay. Everything's ok. You're safe now." Tony was there, holding his hand. Steve was also there, but in his line of sight. Peter took a deep breath, and then another. He looked at Tony and decided what was happening had to be real, because if it wasn't he didn't know if he'd be able to handle it.   
............................................................................................................................................................

Peter couldn't sleep flat on his back anymore. He either had to sleep on his stomach or the bed had to be at an angle. Anything else and Peter would jolt up in the middle of the night and crawl in a half-asleep panic to the nearest window. Needless to say, there'd been a few close calls. Once Tony walked into Peter's recovery room at 1am to find him with one leg out the window and shaking in fear. 

The reunion with May was tearful and full of lectures. She gave him such a big hug and she smelled like home and Peter never wanted to let go of her again. 

Sometimes if Peter closed his eyes too long he thought he could hear someone saying his experiment label at HYDRA. He could hear the faint dripping of his blood hitting the ground. But then he'd come back to reality, and May and Tony would be there to distract him.  
............................................................................................................................................................  
Ned wasn't what you might call a shit-stirrer. He wasn't a 'bad-kid'. Adults do what they do for a reason, and Ned saw no reason to disrespect that. 

That being said, Ned was real fed up with Tony Stark. It had been three and a half weeks since Peter was taken from school property. Two guys dressed in black suits asked to speak with him very quickly, and next thing Ned saw Peter was being chloroformed and shoved into a trunk. Naturally he called Stark first, because when the President of the United States' goons kidnap your best friend, your best bet is a billionaire. Or so he thought. 

The only update he'd gotten was from Happy, about a week ago. 

FROM: HAPPY  
Peter is OK. He is healing. 

That's right. That's all Ned got. Years of friendship, hundreds of hours of video games played together, lego sets built, and this guy thinks he has a greater connection with Peter than Ned. Well Ned was sick of it, and he was going to march down to Stark Industries after school and give Mr. Playboy-Philanthropist a piece of his mind. 

But then Peter showed up to class. He had a slight limp, and he looked paler than usual, but there he was, in the flesh. 

"Peter?! Dude? What happened?" Ned asked as soon as Peter sat down with a wince. They were sitting in their normal spots, near the front of the class so they could see the notes as clearly as possible. But Ned saw Peter throw an anxious glance at the room of students and then look at Ned. 

"I can tell you in a minute, do you mind if we sit back there today?" Peter was already moving to the back of the class. Ned followed him carefully. 

"So what happened? Are you okay?" Peter looked at him. Ned couldn't help but notice he looked tired. He didn't like the haunted look in Peter's eyes. 

"You want the official story or the real one?" There was a slight smile on Peter's lips, and Ned's mouth formed an 'O'.

"What?! There's an official story!? What the heck Peter?! Okay offical first then real. Or real first and then official. Doesn't matter I want both!" Peter laughed a little and looked around (not very sly) to make sure no one was listening in. 

"Official story is I was kidnapped by a weapons gang that thought I had secret information as a Stark Industries intern". 

Ned's eyes widened. "And the real story?" 

Peter looked a little more hesitant now. He leaned in a little and just said "Hydra." 

Ned officially lost it.   
............................................................................................................................................................

MJ was a lot of things but she wasn't a liar. She really was observant. Since Peter came back he was changed. He was different now. Jumpy. He didn't like people behind him. Eye contact was a big deal for him. He only sat in the back row of all of his classes. He drank a ridiculous amount of water. It was no secret that whatever happened when he was kidnapped by the weapons gang had messed him up pretty bad. But it all culminated in gym one day. 

Flash was being particularly impossible to deal with. It was dodgeball day, so Flash felt the need to be a one man army and take out every player, his side or not. Peter was sitting on the bleachers. Apparently he didn't have doctors clearance to do gym activities yet, and by extension Ned didn't have clearance either. They were sitting together talking about something nerdy and Peter looked better than he had for a while. 

At some point Flash must've run out of targets, or got tired, or some combination of the two, because he was over by the bleachers before anyone noticed his absence. Him and his goons pushed over Ned, and then shoved over Peter. Usually that would be about all, but when Peter landed flat on his back he started losing his breath. 

If there's anything Flash hated, it was a drama queen. MJ started running over there, but couldn't arrive fast enough. Flash sat on Parker's torso, holding his arms out and looming over him. Peter lost all manner of sense. He suddenly started thrashing, making animalistic grunts of terror. He shook off Flash, scrambling away from where he had been lying. Breaths eked out of his lungs, but he couldn't get anything in. 

MJ could see Parker look at Ned, then Flash, then the coach, before stumbling to his feet and sprinting full speed away. 

"Asshole" she spat at Flash, before taking off after Peter. 

After about an hour, she found him huddled in some arts and supplies closet. His knees were tucked impossibly close to his body, and he was curled over himself wheezing. 

"Peter, I'm right in front of you and I'm going to put my hand on your knee, ok?" He nodded his head, barely. She set her hand on his knee and felt it shake. Looking closer, she thought she could see tears dripping down from his eyes. 

"I don't know what you're thinking right now, but you're not wherever you were. I'm here." He nodded again, struggling to suck in a breath. 

"It-it was just-it was just like it MJ. I couldn't move. Oh god I couldn't move" His breaths ratcheted, thin whisps of air leaving his lungs as soon as they entered. 

"Parker. Look at me. Make eye contact. We're not there." He looked up at her, and she put his hand right above her chest. 

"Breathe with me now. Nice and slow. Try your best to match what I'm doing." 

They continued on like that for a while, until Peter was calm again. 

Finally, when he could comfortably breath again and he didn't feel an elephant pushing down on his ribs, he cocked his head at Michelle. She looked at him, took his hand off her skin, and sighed. 

"I read a lot, Parker."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so a few things:  
> 1\. Thanks to everybody that left comments/kudos! I didn't realize anyone wanted to read my self-indulgent whump.   
> 2\. If you think he healed too fast, my excuse is super healing.   
> 3\. I'm probably only going to give this thing another chapter or two, so if you have any good whump prompts drop them in the comments! 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter heals, and so does everyone else

Tony was having nightmares. Not that that was entirely new, but his old nightmares were always about himself, and these new ones? Not so much. In the new nightmares, Peter was writhing around on a cold steel table, all alone and sobbing. He kept saying Tony's name, and slices would dig their way through his sides and limbs. Tony was stuck still, unable to move as he saw Peter's blood splashing into puddles on the ground. In the end, Peter would finally see him in the corner and try shouting for him, only to have blood spill out of his mouth instead of words. 

It was some variation of that, every night. The memory of the kid terrified of Steve and scrambling to protect Tony haunted him, to put it lightly. And that's not to mention the memory of the kid shaking on that damn table in the middle of nowhere. Of the kid trying to 'escape' the compound with nothing but a raw, base panic in his eyes. 

Tony carefully referred to everything that had happened as The Ordeal, and Tony would go to the lengths of the Earth to avoid talking about The Ordeal. That being said, he couldn't ignore that it had happened, and that it wreaked emotional havoc on the poster boy of teenaged vigilantism. Tony could see the far away look the kids eyes had sometimes, and he'd tried setting him up with a specialist counselor that Tony trusted. Nothing stuck though, in the end the only thing that seemed to get through to his protegee was an hour after school on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, dedicated to gadget work and good old fashioned bonding. 

In the aftermath of The Ordeal, he'd stuck a small tracker into Peter. He was micro-chipped now. Like a cat. But far more taxing on Tony's emotional state. The only thing that seemed to be able to get Tony any sleep after one of those nightmares was looking up Peter's location, which was almost always at his home now. Tony liked just staring at the dot on the electronic map, imagining Peter snuggled in his bed with some ridiculous Avengers-themed blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

Tony liked imagining Peter getting sleep, even though he knew it was unlikely the kid would get any substantial rest any time soon.  
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May woke to the sound of garbled pleading, like she did most nights now. Staring over at the clock next to her bed, she saw it was 4 in the morning. Either Peter went to bed late or he slept longer than he usually did. 

"Please-please just-... don't... please... don't hurt him..."

She looked over at Peter, who had gotten in the habit of crawling into her bed on nights he thought would be bad. His fists were clenched in the sheets, a whine stuck in his throat. When he was like this May found the best thing to do was to address him directly and make her presence known. 

"Peter. Hey, you're okay, you're safe"

She rubbed his shoulder, trying to ground him back in the present. In the brief flashes from a night light she could see tears pouring down his cheeks. His arm was still in the air-cast, but it was almost healed up. He swung it around in front of his face, trying to defend himself against unseen opponents. Peter ground his teeth together, pushing his shoulders into the bed and arching his back up ever slightly. His eyes were shut tight, but she could see them rapidly rolling in their sockets.

"There's... there's been a mistake... p-please..." 

She struggled to lift up his torso, trying to shove pillows under him to try and prop him up a little. Sometimes it helped, not lying flat and staring at the ceiling. 

"Peter, you need to wake up. It's a nightmare. You're safe now. I'm here." She ran her fingers through his hair and felt the cold sweat lying there. Every fiber of her being ached at the sight of Peter like this. Hell, she remembered when he'd come back from what she now knew as the Germany trip, and he was practically bouncing around on the walls with excitement and energy. He was a happy kid, always was. He was her happy kid. And for all intents and purposes, she was his mom.

"Peter, honey" 

He opened his eyes finally, chest heaving. 

"I'm right here, you're okay" 

He didn't say anything, just turning over to her and clutching her in a hug. She could feel his body shake with the power of a sob. One of her hands was sorting through his hair, the other lightly rubbing his back. That was their routine now.   
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Peter didn't get out much anymore. But when he did, he liked to get as high up as possible. On this particular night he'd chosen the tallest building he could get to that was five minutes or less away from his and May's apartment. In his mind, if he could just get high enough he'd be able to surpass the smog and see the stars. 

He must've been sitting there for hours in a hammock made of webbing. He liked being there, free from anyone else. He could just be Peter, on a hammock. Not Peter, recently tortured. Peter, who couldn't sleep anymore. Peter, the survivor. 

His eyes were unfocused, lost in some train of thought involving Star Wars and a ridiculous Jar Jar fan theory he'd read online, when soft footsteps on the rooftop alerted him to someone elses presence. He stilled almost imperceptibly, mapping out where the person was walking and where their next steps would land. Then he sprung up, flipping behind the intruder and webbing them to the nearest pipe. 

They were dressed all in black, with a hood covering their face. 

"Who uh- who are you?" 

The figure shrugged a little 

"I would've thought you'd trust me by now"

The hood slipped off the persons head, revealing no one else but the Winter Soldier. Peter gulped. His spider sense might not be going off but he could be damn sure his stranger danger sense was. 

"What do you want?" 

The Winter Soldier looked at him, his brow furrowed. If Peter was really trying to read him, he might've said the guy looked sheepish. 

"Wanted to check in on you. That was a rough scene back there."

Peter's eye involuntarily twitched. He didn't know what to say. The Winter Soldier ripped through the webbing like it was tissue paper, but he didn't make a move to come closer to   
Peter. Despite that, Peter took a few steps back, readying his web shooters as if they'd have any impact. The Winter Soldier saw this and sighed, seeming to struggle to find his words. 

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not" he paused, making eye contact with Peter, "not that guy anymore. I don't hurt people. But I'll have your back, if you ever need help." 

Peter scrutinized him again, but he seemed less tentative than a second earlier so Bucky figured he had to be doing something right. 

"Stark is coming. Stay safe." 

Peter blinked and he was gone, vaulting off the side of the building and sliding down some kind of rope that led to a different building. He could see Bucky exiting the building and blending in with the night crowds at the bottom of the building on the street. 

From behind him he heard, "Kid. We both know I'm too young to have an aneurysm. What the hell are you doing up here?"  
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He didn't give much credence to Bucky's words, but he didn't forget them. And weeks passed, and then months all at once. Peter had been sleeping through the night for a while again, and with his sleep came May's and Tony's. He allowed himself to have fun again, and hung out with Ned and MJ whenever time allowed. Everything was back to normal, including patrols. Earlier in the night a grateful tourist got him a hot dog after he'd halted a mugging. 

All in all, it was shaping up to be a good day. Or so he thought, up until he heard shouting up in an abandoned building. 

"Somebody! Help! Please!" He could hear the shrieks, and left his residual fear of old facilities in the dust to come to someones aid. But by the time he'd arrived, all was quiet in   
the building. 

"Hello? Anybody? Someone call the incredibly handsome and totally cool Spider-Man?" 

He paused for a beat, waiting for someone to reply or make themselves known. He started down the hall to begin checking rooms when he heard-

"In here! Please!" It was coming from a floor up and a few rooms down, and he was running into the room in seconds. But as soon as he got past the door jam the steel door slid shut and locked ominously. His spider sense ramped to on high, and somewhere on his right what felt like a cattle prod struck his side. Of course he hadn't noticed anyone there, as he was focused on the crude Spider-Man doll strung up by the neck hanging in the center of the room.

Peter crumpled to the ground with the strength of the electricity. His muscles twitched with the aftershocks and his tongue tasted burnt. 

"You know, everyone said it'd be difficult to get you. 'Oh,' they said, 'that Spider-Man has gotta be real smart to do what he does. No way could you sneak up on him. No way could   
you get the drop on the. famous. Spider-man'". 

His assailant punctuated his last three words wih pokes from the cattle prod, eliciting an incredibly un-manly scream from Peter. 

"You're just human. You're nothing special"

The guy plunged the prod deep into Peter's stomach, longer than he had any time before. For a minute or so Peter blacked out, aided by the incredible burning pain and sensation   
of fire burning every cell in his body. When he came to, he distinctly saw the Winter Soldier mercilessly pounding his fist into the guys face. Peter grunted from the floor, seeing as there wasn't much else he was capable of in that moment. 

Tony chose that particular time to fly in through a window-less pane. 

"Peter, kid, breath. You're giving me grey hairs."

Peter looked over to Barnes, who looked over to Tony. Tony was kneeling next to Peter's collapsed body on the floor, where he was sucking in air like the room was running out.   
As Tony accessed Karen's database Peter made final eye contact with the Winter Soldier. Bucky nodded quickly at Peter once, and Peter nodded back. In the blink of an eye he was gone in the night, and Tony was lifting Peter up to take him for medical help. 

Looking up into the sky from where Tony was holding him, Peter could just barely make out the stars. He was going to be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that'll be it for this one, thanks for the support and comments from everyone! I really do read all of them, more than once, because I am desperate for a sign this stuff is alright. 
> 
> On that note, check out my new story, When It Rains (It Pours), which is about Peter being placed in an abusive foster family after May's death. Really though? Just more whump lmao. 
> 
> As always, comment if you liked the story, drop any fun whump prompts, and thanks for reading :)))


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter heals, and as it turns out the other avengers aren't nearly as scary as he would have thought.

Tony was half asleep when he picked up the special flip phone Rogers had left for him all those months ago. At first the fact that it was a flip phone struck him as highly offensive to his lifetime of work in the technological field, but he couldn't blame Rogers for still playing catch up. 

"Are you alright?" He asked into the phone, half coherent. Waking up, he could see the light of dawn creeping in through his window and he found momentary comfort in the beauty of it. 

"Yes, thank you for asking. I just wanted to check on Spider-Boy. Bucky said he's had some... encounters." 

Tony sat up in bed, and padded out into the living room to avoid waking up Pepper. Suspicion swirled in his gut. 

"The kid is okay. What's really happening?" 

Rogers chuckled lightly through the phone and Tony studied the skyline. 

"No ulterior motives here, Stark. I was actually hoping we could make a plan to meet up. We've all been pardoned so I don't see why we shouldn't get out more, and it's occurred to me that some people just don't trust certain members of the Avengers like they used to."

The sound of Peter begging for his life and desperately trying to position himself in between Tony and Steve flashed into Tony's mind. The same thought occupied Steves.

"What are you thinking? We all hold hands and sing kumbaya?" Despite it being a good idea to get together, Tony couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his mouth. He cursed himself for coming off so abrasive, but he just couldn't help himself. Luckily, Rogers must've been in a good mood, and he laughed on the other end. 

"Something like that, yeah. I'll tell you what, I've got all the planning down, all you need to do is meet us next Sunday at 3 at that spot in the park where Thor saw his first pigeon. Oh, and bring the kid."

Tony couldn't believe Steve called him in the ass hole of the morning to make brunch plans. 

"Deal. Leave the shield at home, though."

"Sounds good. See you then, Stark."

Tony sighed into the morning air. He hated most social functions where he had to stay sober, and he was especially not looking forward to games in the park with a bunch of ex-war criminals. And a child.  
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Sunday approached faster than Peter had thought it would. Mr. Stark had told him about the park, and even made plans to pick him up himself rather than send Happy. On this particular day the various plates in his arm ached, and stiffness stretched all the way up his arm. Normally he'd ignore it, but it felt like an omen on a day like this one. 

The ride there was tense, to say the least. 

"Okay, kid. Keep talking with me. If you get hungry, tell me, and we'll leave. If you get anxious, tell me, and we'll leave. If a breeze hits you wrong, what do you do?" 

"Tell you, and we'll leave." Peter recited. He looked over to see Mr. Stark suppressing a smile next to him.

"That's right. Knew you were a smart kid." 

Peter knew somewhere that it was a joke, but he still beamed at the compliment. 

"In all seriousness, Peter, if it gets to be too much tell me. There's no pressure to stay if you don't want to. Don't think I haven't noticed you rubbing your arm. Stiff?"

Peter couldn't help but be surprised that Tony had noticed. He nodded a 'yes' with his eyes downcast to avoid Stark's judgement. 

"Well, let me know kid."

If Peter was honest he wanted to turn back now. He wanted to sit on the couch and eat Thai food and watch a sci fi movie with Mr. Stark. The thought of seeing the other Avengers sparked a dull anxiety in his gut that only grew the closer they got to the park. 

But he was a Parker, and Parkers were nothing if they weren't kind and polite, and Peter had been invited to a social function by Captain freaking America, and obligation was a bitch. 

So he nodded again to Mr. Stark and tightened his fists against his sides until his knuckles turned white.

.....................................................................................................................................................

When they got there Peter's anxiety reached new heights. Mr. Rogers and the Winter Soldier were standing side by side, laughing about something while Mr. Rogers flipped over some burgers on a grill. The Scarlet Witch and Black Widow were layed out on a blanket on the grass, basking in the sun. Ant-Man and the Falcon were trying to play some kind of sport, but it was unclear what the rules were, or even if there were rules at all. 

As soon as Peter and Tony approached the group they all stood up and gathered together, staring at Peter. He self consciously rubbed at his arm, running his fingers against the scars. 

Peter watched as the Black Widow shifted to put one of her legs behind her in a prepared fighting stance. Peter's anxiety ratcheted to new levels, and he found himself taking a small step in front of Mr. Stark in case anything happened. Rogers took a step forward and Peter stumbled back, shoving Mr. Stark completely behind him. 

For a second he was back at the HYDRA facility, bloody and broken and terrified, and he couldn't help but think about how they were surrounded by enemies. Everyone there wanted to hurt them, kill them. If he could get Tony out of there he could take the brunt of their attack. 

"Hotdog or hamburger?" Bucky shouted from where the grill was stationed. The various avengers whirled around to see who Bucky was talking to, only to find him looking at each one of them individually. 

"What kind of question is that? Hamburgers got hot dogs beat." Tony droned from behind Peter. 

"Oh I don't think so. Hot dogs are the ultimate American cuisine." Rogers said jokingly. The remaining avengers broke out into the ultimate debate, laughing and going back to their leisurely activities. Peter didn't move a muscle, maintaining his defensive position against Stark. Tony nudges his shoulder lightly. 

"You alright, kid?" 

Peter carefully surveyed the park, taking in the afternoon. He relaxed his posture, and felt Tony's arm wrap around his shoulders. Together, they walked over to where Bucky and Steve were cooking food. 

"Yeah, I'm ok. Thanks, Mr. Stark, for everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a century for me to wrap this one up! In all honesty I thought I'd finished it with the last chapter but then I saw the 3/? sign and felt bad and wrote another one. But I promise this is it. 
> 
> Comment. Please, comment. I live for your comments. 
> 
> This is also officially the end of my first fanfiction. Feels weird. Read the others if you have the time, and if you do, PLEASE comment.


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